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I remember standing in front of a Hallmark card rack reading Mother's Day cards, and trying to find one that didn't seem like a complete lie. I felt obligated to send a card home; the guilt of not participating would be overwhelming, but "what to say"? Say: I'm sorry I was not a compliant, quiet child that didn't need anything; that every thing I explored just added to the stress of living: that I was too active, too loud, too sensitive, too skinny; too independent; my hair was too straight & too fine to hold a curl and too thin to make braids. Like many of her generation, my mother married straight out of high school, had babies and worked hard. She had high expectations of what life should be and fought like Hell to try to force reality to fit her plan. The man she married was a narcissist, clinically depressed (hospitalized twice for ECT treatment) and a bully to anyone weaker than he--wife and kids included. It has taken me years of work with growth groups, therapists, prayer groups, and Al-Anon to finally come to compassion for this woman. She was smart, she could have accomplished much with a loving partner, and she worked so hard to try to make a home life. I celebrate you, Mildred Sparks Bethea, for all the effort you put forth. I hope you are finding peace and joy in Heaven. --Donna
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January 2022
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